Vertigo
by Astoria Telerin
Summary: Love may be the one thing that transcends distance and time. Legolas/Hermione because there are far to few of these.
1. The Beginning

Author's Note: This story is the first I've ever written and the brainchild of excessive amounts of boredom and the subsequent rereading of LOTR for the 5th time. I have always wanted to try a crossover with Legolas/Hermione as there is a lack of stories of this type. This pairing is interesting enough to deserve a full length fic, but this may just end up a short story. I don't really have a clear layout quite yet, so _please _leave critiques/comments. Enjoy?

**Disclaimer: _The Lord of the Rings_ and _Harry Potter_ are the works of two fabulous authors, J.R.R Tolkien and J.K. Rowling.**

Prologue:

_Dying is not romantic, and death is not a game which will soon be over... Death is not anything... death is not... It's the absence of presence, nothing more... the endless time of never coming back... a gap you can't see, and when the wind blows through it, it makes no sound..._

Hogwarts was taken on a clear, cold day. With every gust of wind, umber and orange drifted down from the trees to ay a scant carpet of leaves over the fallen.

Hermione would be the first and the last to leave this world.

Malfoy stalked her through the decimated corridors of Hogwarts, calling out her name in a manner that would have been considered teasing between lovers had it not been for the insanity subtly coloring his tone. They had gone at this little game of cat and mouse for hours. She was the last of the preconditioned light side. Her comrades had gone down valiantly, but no amount of fearlessness could defeat the sheer numbers on the opposing side.

Hermione crouched behind a collapsed column, disillusioning herself, listening to his soft footsteps echo across the hall, stray dust in the air aggravating her eyes. Her heart beat out of her chest, grief and fatigue fighting a battle for control. _Such petty nuances._ She clung to her vinewood wand in her scuffed hands with an unwavering intensity.

Tear tracks stained her begrimed face, her clothing torn, bloodied and unlaundered. So many had perished in the Final Battle. _Remus, Tonks, Ginny, Ron, Harry..._ The pain of their falling was insurmountable to any other heart fall she had ever experienced. She was unfathomably fatigued, both mentally and physically. Hermione was so tired. Tired of conflict, death, desperation...

"_Mudblood_", he spat out. How Malfoy managed to find her escaped all possible comprehension. He looked akin to her condition, if not worse. His platinum blond hair was matted with grease and blood. His eyes held a slightly deranged and pained look she had never seen before, his wand aimed at her throat.

"Malfoy, _please _don't-", she pleaded. She saw the person he had become, and saw the person he could be.

"_Tempus_ _Itinerantur_", he shouted, a spell she had only read of in books.

Her world folded in on itself until it was but a bleak blackness.

This is not the end, it is the beginning.

_P.S.-_ The spell "_Tempus Itinerantur" _literally translates to something along the lines of "_time are being walked" _in Latin.


	2. Introspection

Author's Note: First off my fellow fanfictioners, thank you for the reviews! I can only fix my writing if I receive constructive criticism. So please, point out any mishaps or errors you happen to find. Last night, I received a (much appreciated) review addressing the mistake in the naming and translation of the spell _Tempus Itinerantur _from Lorindol Tinuviel. According to her, the spell actually translates to_ "time are being walked". _I think I may just leave the spell name as it is, but I will definitely change the translation. This update was a quick one because I had previously written it. As long as I continue this story, you can expect an update about every week. I received a few reviews on the briefness of my story. As I get a more concrete idea of the plot, it will generally lengthen. Lastly, I do not have a beta. If you would be interested or know of a good one, please pm me. Enjoy?

**Disclaimer: **_**The Lord of the Rings **_**and **_**Harry Potter**_** are the works of two fabulous authors, J.R.R. Tolkien and J.K. Rowling.**

Chapter 1:

_You cannot reason someone out of a situation they didn't reason themselves into._

Hermione woke to blinding sunlight, it took her weary eyes a moment to adjust. She curled in on herself, her whole body aching in memory of the previous day's events.

"_Suilad_" A high bell-like voice spoke in a language she had never heard before. The woman seated next to her bed was tall with inky black hair and opaque grey eyes. Her face held the beauty of youth, but her eyes reflected the grace and wisdom only longevity could gift. Hermione wondered who this strange woman was. She held an elegance to ethereal to be human. Hermione suddenly remembered her manners and felt rude for openly gawking at the woman.

"Where am I? What happened? Who are you?", Hermione asked. The room she resided in was mystical, with sand stone floors, vines clinging to the balcony and a slightly medieval look? By the position of the sun, she judged it was late in the afternoon.

The woman laughed, "So many questions young one. I am Arwen, daughter of Elrond. You are in Rivendell. Your coming to us was quite unexpected to say the least. Two days ago, guards patrolling the borders witnessed you fall from the sky. You sustained many injuries, most of which my father was able to heal. How do you fare?"

She altogether forgot about her physical ailments as she truly began to understand the precedence of her situation. _Rivendell? Arwen? _No, no, _no_. It was possible to travel small increments of time, but centuries, even millennia? She had read Tolkien's famous stories as a child, reveling in their simple complexity. How was it even plausible to be sent into a what she previously thought was only a _story?_

Hermione was intelligent enough to know that those that fool with the delicate intricacies of time rarely come out unscathed. To comprehend how dire her situation was, she would need to remember the science that made it all possible.

All beings naturally existed in Euclidean space- which magic can manipulate. Time, the fourth dimension, affects us every hour of every day. That's why we age. Once channels like time-turners and incantations were created, we could essentially hop around the timeline, gifting us the ability to mess with it.

At a basic level, the incantation Malfoy had used worked because it combined very strong magic and a phenomenon scientists call 'dark matter'. This substance exists in the universe and does not reflect light. The opposite of 'luminous matter'- you, me, plants and trees. Everything that is visible.

But if you cannot see it, how do you know it is there?

Hermione had come across this question many times from her peers, and from a magical standpoint, it was simply explained.

You can't see people hidden by a disillusionment charm, but you know they are present when they brush against your arm? A disillusionment charm calls for dark magic to bend light to hide whatever is behind it.

The incantation Malfoy had used required vast amounts of dark matter. Perhaps so much that it had created unbalance in the universe. How would her being change the future? Was there anything she could do to avoid anomalies like the grandfather paradox?

What ever she did here in Tolkien's world would require strategy and aim in it's execution.

"Where is Rivendell? It holds no similarity to England...", she trailed off, almost speaking to herself. Of course she knew where Rivendell was, she had almost memorized _The Lord of the Rings_. Incertitude would be necessary, for any dubious behavior would not be well tolerated. Unease began to color her mood, how would she return home?

Arwen looked at Hermione strangely, "What is England? I have never heard of that place." Hermione endeavored to come up with something that would satisfy the woman and be somewhat accurate.

"England...is a place located in the Far East. It is a relatively new establishment.", it was convincing enough. Few had traveled that far.

Arwen nodded with compassion for this stray traveler, and pushed her hair back behind her ears, Hermione's eyes widened before she remembered this lady was not a woman, but an _elleth._

"Lady Arwen, what is the date?", This was the most important question Hermione would need the answer to. It would be travesty if she was sent back to early, her magic may not be able to take her the long distances back to the time whence she originated from.

"It is right after the war of the ring.", Arwen said.

_Thank the founders_. She might actually be able to return.

Arwen regarded Hermione with interest. Arwen had met many mortals, but none seemed like Lady Hermione. She radiated in a way that was phantasmagorical.

Hermione looked back at Arwen, contemplating the topic of her wonderment. Arwen seemed to be holding in a question, but decided it exigent enough to inquire.

Arwen asked her question cautiously, "...Lady Hermione, are you a Maia?"


	3. Elucidate

**Author's Note:** Good Evening ladies and gentlemen! As promised, I updated within the week. The first thing I would like to address is the time it will take me to update. With tests coming up, I require more time to study, so I will (sadly) have to extend the update time to two weeks. Secondly, as readers, do you think it more prudent to have her sent back just before the Council of Elrond or after the war has ended? Also, apologies to **Mr.** Lorindol Tinuviel. As always, Enjoy?

**Disclaimer: **_**The Lord of the Rings **_**and **_**Harry Potter**_** are the works of two fabulous authors, J.R.R. Tolkien and J.K. Rowling.**

Chapter 2:

OOO

_That's the incredible thing about literature. We can tell the same story a thousand times, and every time it's different._

_**Previously:**_

_**Arwen considered Hermione with interest. She seemed to be holding in a question, but decided it exigent enough to inquire.**_

_**Arwen asked her question cautiously, "...Lady Hermione, are you a Maia?"**_

Hermione regarded this question with curiosity. If she answered no, it would be almost impossible to conceal her magical, almost otherworldly aura.

She hesitated for one, almost imperceptible second before confirming Arwen's suspicions.

The beautiful woman gave her a worrying look. Hermione wondered if the beings of this world held the same prejudices muggles held for magical kind and vice-versa.

"Lady Hermione, caution would heed you well when telling others of your being Maia. There are still many that will harshly judge you, not of your own actions, but by the doings of other ill-meaning Maia. On a better note, let us get you proper dress and food," said she.

Arwen stood and glided with strictly elven grace, over to the intricately carved closet. She chose a beautiful royal blue gown with golden trim. She laid it on he foot of her bed.

Areen smiled gently, "Soaps and towels are in the bathroom, if there is anything else you need, don't hesitate to alert me," with that, Arwen left the room.

Hermione attempted to get up from the bed, finding there wasn't the difficulty she had expected. The eleven crafted ointment used on her must have alleviated her physical ailments.

She took the dress with her to the bathroom, laying it on the counter to examine her body. Faint, yellow bruises spotted her body, nothing to worry about. Her hair was still its unruly self, some things couldn't be changed. She began to remember little things like Harry's penchant for finding trouble and the way Ron would fiercely defend his friends, no matter the cost. Their loss, added to the death of all her other companions, was the most arduous thing she had ever experienced. She would have to go on, for them.

Hermione's thoughts wandered to other things like the strange magic this world seemed to hold.

She _felt_ it. This world absolutely _pulsed_ with magic.

Hermione would need to explore that, but now was not the time. She dressed quickly and returned to her chamber.

Arwen called for her, "Lady Hermione, are you decent?"

"Yes Arwen and there is no need to call me Lady Hermione," Hermione spoke to Arwen's entering form.

"I am being called upon by my father for an important issue, do you have any question on where to go or what to do?", Arwen asked urgently.

Hermione blushed and hesitated before asking, "Yes, I do. Do you have a library?" Her inner bookworm was beginning to make it's appearance.

"We have quite an extensive one. To reach it, you will need to cross the courtyard right in front of the main balcony. You will have no difficulty seeing it," said Arwen.

Hermione stepped forward and reached for Arwen's hand, holding it gently, "Thank you so much for your hospitality."

Arwen smiled with grace, "It tis' the greatest thing in the world, kindness," with those parting words, she took her leave.

OOO

The library was enormous, dwarfing Hogwarts' by a long shot. She spent her time learning about the history of Middle Earth's races. Hermione was able to learn numerous things, including details that Tolkien was not able to include in his books.

In particular, she was interested in learning more Sindarin, she had already learned a little back on Earth. Because of her affinity for learning, she was able to learn more quickly.

After spending many an hour reading in the vast library, Hermione was ready to take her leave. She would miss this room of intellect, but would most likely return soon.

As she was crossing the training areas and the courtyard, she spotted two figures approaching from a distance. One had curly, shoulder length brown hair and the other had long golden hair.

_Legolas and Aragorn. What are they here in Rivendell for?  
_

They came closer and eventually stopped to greet her. They were quite intimidating. Aragorn appeared much more rugged than what was described in the book. He was quite tall for a human, matching Legolas. She could see he held wisdom only age and experience could gift. She then remembered he was blessed with the long life of the Dunedain. The elf next to Aragorn was stunning to say the least. He had clear blue eyes that spoke of a life of war. He too was tall, but more lithe in build. His face held an aristocratic beauty. Hermione could not remember if he was of the Sindar or Silvan elves.

She stepped forward mustering all her courage, "Hello, I am Hermione Granger. What are your names?_"_

Aragorn decided to speak first. "Well met Hermione, daughter of Granger. I am a man many names, but you may call me Aragorn. My comrade is called Legolas."

Hermione thought it best to put some of her newly learned Sindarin to use, "_El sila erin lu e-govanend vin."_

Legolas glanced at her with interest, there was something unworldly about her. She was obviously of the race of man, how would she know Sindarin? He spoke next, "_Pedil edhellen?"_

"_U-bedin edhellen,"_ Hermione said. It would be best not to arouse suspicion.

Legolas and Aragorn stole a glance at each other, not quite believing her. The pronunciation of her Sindarin was almost perfected, but they decided to go along for the sake of being polite.

The pair wanted to ask exactly what and who she was, but knew that now was not the time, so they decided to say their farewells. Besides, there was a good chance they would see her soon regardless.

Both man and elf left, but Legolas was the only one to look back.

OOO


End file.
